


The Lost Hero

by aurmaranth



Series: Heroes of Olympus (AU) [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M, POV First Person, POV Jason Grace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7204847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurmaranth/pseuds/aurmaranth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heroes of Olympus AU where everything is from Jason's POV, from the first book to the last. It starts off almost identical to the Lost Hero, but things will get different quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apparently I'm a Delinquent

Even before I got electrocuted, I was having a rotten day.

I woke up in the backseat of a school bus, not sure where I was, holding hands with a girl I didn’t know. That wasn’t necessarily the rotten part. The girl was cute, but I couldn’t figure out who she was or what I was doing there. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to think.

A few dozen kids sprawled in the seats in front of me, listening to iPods, talking, or sleeping. They all looked around my age ... fifteen? Sixteen? Okay, that was scary. I didn’t know my own age.

The bus rumbled along a bumpy road. Out the windows, desert rolled by under a bright blue sky. I was pretty sure I didn’t live in the desert. I tried to think back ... the last thing I remembered ...

The girl squeezed my hand. “Jason, you okay?”

She wore faded jeans, hiking boots, and a fleece snowboarding jacket. Her chocolate brown hair was cut choppy and uneven, with thin strands braided down the sides. She wore no makeup like she was trying not to draw attention to herself, but it didn’t work. She was seriously pretty. Her eyes seemed to change color like a kaleidoscope—brown, blue, and green.

I let go of her hand. “Um, I don’t—” 

In the front of the bus, a teacher shouted, “All right, cupcakes, listen up!”

The guy was obviously a coach. His baseball cap was pulled low over his hair, so you could just see his beady eyes. He had a wispy goatee and a sour face, like he’d eaten something moldy. His buff arms and chest pushed against a bright orange polo shirt. His nylon workout pants and Nikes were spotless white. A whistle hung from his neck, and a megaphone was clipped to his belt. He would’ve looked pretty scary if he hadn’t been five feet zero. When he stood up in the aisle, one of the students called, “Stand up, Coach Hedge!”

“I heard that!” The coach scanned the bus for the offender. Then his eyes fixed on me, and his scowl deepened.

A jolt went down my spine. I was sure the coach knew I didn’t belong there. He was going to call me out, demand to know what I was doing on the bus—and I wouldn’t have a clue what to say.

But Coach Hedge looked away and cleared his throat. “We’ll arrive in five minutes! Stay with your partner. Don’t lose your worksheet. And if any of you precious little cupcakes causes any trouble on this trip, I will personally send you back to campus the hard way.”

He picked up a baseball bat and made like he was hitting a homer. 

I looked at the girl next to me. “Can he talk to us that way?” 

She shrugged. “Always does. This is the Wilderness School. ‘Where kids are the animals.’” 

She said it like it was a joke we’d shared before. 

“This is some kind of mistake,” I said. “I’m not supposed to be here.” 

The boy in front of me turned and laughed. “Yeah, right, Jason. We’ve all been framed! I didn’t run away six times. Piper didn’t steal a BMW.” 

The girl blushed. “I didn’t steal that car, Leo!” 

“Oh, I forgot, Piper. What was your story? You ‘talked’ the dealer into lending it to you?” He raised his eyebrows at me like, _Can you believe her?_

Leo looked like a Latino Santa’s elf, with curly black hair, pointy ears, a cheerful, babyish face, and a mischievous smile that told you right away this guy should not be trusted around matches or sharp objects. His long, nimble fingers wouldn’t stop moving—drumming on the seat, sweeping his hair behind his ears, fiddling with the buttons of his army fatigue jacket. Either the kid was naturally hyper or he was hopped up on enough sugar and caffeine to give a heart attack to a water buffalo.

“Anyway,” Leo said, “I hope you’ve got your worksheet, ’cause I used mine for spit wads days ago. Why are you looking at me like that? Somebody draw on my face again?”

“I don’t know you,” I said. 

Leo gave him a crocodile grin. “Sure. I’m not your best friend. I’m his evil clone.”

“Leo Valdez!” Coach Hedge yelled from the front. “Problem back there?” 

Leo winked at me. “Watch this.” He turned to the front. “Sorry, Coach! I was having trouble hearing you. Could you use your megaphone, please?” 

Coach Hedge grunted like he was pleased to have an excuse. He unclipped the megaphone from his belt and continued giving directions, but his voice came out like Darth Vader’s. The kids cracked up. The coach tried again, but this time the megaphone blared: “The cow says moo!” 

The kids howled, and the coach slammed down the megaphone. “Valdez!”

Piper stifled a laugh. “My god, Leo. How did you do that?” 

Leo slipped a tiny Phillips head screwdriver from his sleeve. “I’m a special boy.”

“Guys, seriously,” I pleaded. “What am I doing here? Where are we going?”

Piper knit her eyebrows. “Jason, are you joking?” 

“No! I have no idea—” 

“Aw, yeah, he’s joking,” Leo said. “He’s trying to get me back for that shaving cream on the Jell-O thing, aren’t you?” 

I stared at him blankly.

“No, I think he’s serious.” Piper tried to take my hand again, but I pulled it away.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t—I can’t—” 

“That’s it!” Coach Hedge yelled from the front. “The back row has just volunteered to clean up after lunch!”

The rest of the kids cheered. 

“There’s a shocker,” Leo muttered. 

But Piper kept her eyes on me, like she couldn’t decide whether to be hurt or worried. “Did you hit your head or something? You really don’t know who we are?” 

I shrugged helplessly. “It’s worse than that. I don’t know who I am.”

 

The bus dropped us in front of a big red stucco complex like a museum, just sitting in the middle of nowhere. Maybe that’s what it was: the National Museum of Nowhere. A cold wind blew across the desert. I hadn’t paid much attention to what I was wearing, but it wasn’t nearly warm enough: jeans and sneakers, a purple T-shirt, and a thin black windbreaker.

“So, a crash course for the amnesiac,” Leo said, in a helpful tone that made it clear this was not going to be helpful. “We go to the ‘Wilderness School’”—Leo made air quotes with his fingers. “Which means we’re ‘bad kids.’ Your family, or the court, or whoever, decided you were too much trouble, so they shipped you off to this lovely prison—sorry, ‘boarding school’—in Armpit, Nevada, where you learn valuable nature skills like running ten miles a day through the cacti and weaving daisies into hats! And for a special treat we go on ‘educational’ field trips with Coach Hedge, who keeps order with a baseball bat. Is it all coming back to you now?”

“No.” I glanced apprehensively at the other kids: maybe twenty guys, half that many girls. None of them looked like hardened criminals, but I wondered what they’d all done to get sentenced to a school for delinquents, and I wondered why he belonged with them.

Leo rolled his eyes. “You’re really gonna play this out, huh? Okay, so the three of us started here together this semester. We’re totally tight. You do everything I say and give me your dessert and do my chores—”

“Leo!” Piper snapped. 

“Fine. Ignore that last part. But we are friends. Well, Piper’s a little more than your friend, the last few weeks—” 

“Leo, stop it!” Piper’s face turned red. I could feel my face burning too. I thought I’d remember if I’d been going out with a girl like Piper. 

“He’s got amnesia or something,” Piper said. “We’ve got to tell somebody.” 

Leo scoffed. “Who, Coach Hedge? He’d try to fix Jason by whacking him upside the head.” 

The coach was at the front of the group, barking orders and blowing his whistle to keep the kids in line; but every so often he’d glance back at me and scowl. 

“Leo, Jason needs help,” Piper insisted. “He’s got a concussion or—” 

“Yo, Piper.” One of the other guys dropped back to join them as the group was heading into the museum. The new guy wedged himself between me and Piper and knocked Leo down.“Don’t talk to these bottom-feeders.You’re my partner, remember?”

The new guy had dark hair cut Superman style, a deep tan, and teeth so white they should’ve come with a warning label: _Do not stare directly at teeth. Permanent blindness may occur._ He wore a Dallas Cowboys jersey, Western jeans and boots, and he smiled like he was God’s gift to juvenile delinquent girls everywhere. I hated him instantly.

“Go away, Dylan,” Piper grumbled. “I didn’t ask to work with you.”

“Ah, that’s no way to be. This is your lucky day!” Dylan hooked his arm through hers and dragged her through the museum entrance. Piper shot one last look over her shoulder like, 911.

Leo got up and brushed himself off. “I hate that guy.” He offered me his arm, like they should go skipping inside together. “‘I’m Dylan. I’m so cool, I want to date myself, but I can’t figure out how! You want to date me instead? You’re so lucky!’”

“Leo,” I said, “you’re weird.” 

“Yeah, you tell me that a lot.” Leo grinned. “But if you don’t remember me, that means I can reuse all my old jokes. Come on!” 

I figured that if this was my best friend, my life must be pretty messed up; but I followed Leo into the museum.

 

We walked through the building, stopping here and there for Coach Hedge to lecture us with his megaphone, which alternately made him sound like a Sith Lord or blared out random comments like “The pig says oink.”

Leo kept pulling out nuts, bolts, and pipe cleaners from the pockets of his army jacket and putting them together, like he had to keep his hands busy at all times.

I was too distracted to pay much attention to the exhibits, but they were about the Grand Canyon and the Hualapai tribe, which owned the museum.

Some girls kept looking over at Piper and Dylan and snickering. I figured these girls were the popular clique. They wore matching jeans and pink tops and enough makeup for a Halloween party.

One of them said, “Hey, Piper, does your tribe run this place? Do you get in free if you do a rain dance?”

The other girls laughed. Even Piper’s so-called partner Dylan suppressed a smile. Piper’s snowboarding jacket sleeves hid her hands, but I got the feeling she was clenching her fists.

“My dad’s Cherokee,” she said. “Not Hualapai. ’Course, you’d need a few brain cells to know the difference, Isabel.”

Isabel widened her eyes in mock surprise, so that she looked like an owl with a makeup addiction. “Oh, sorry! Was your mom in this tribe? Oh, that’s right. You never knew your mom.”

Piper charged her, but before a fight could start, Coach Hedge barked, “Enough back there! Set a good example or I’ll break out my baseball bat!” 

The group shuffled on to the next exhibit, but the girls kept calling out little comments to Piper. 

“Good to be back on the rez?” one asked in a sweet voice. 

“Dad’s probably too drunk to work,” another said with fake sympathy. “That’s why she turned klepto.”

Piper ignored them, but I was ready to punch them myself. I might not remember Piper, or even who I was, but I knew I hated mean kids.

Leo caught my arm. “Be cool. Piper doesn’t like us fighting her battles. Besides, if those girls found out the truth about her dad, they’d be all bowing down to her and screaming, ‘We’re not worthy!’”

“Why? What about her dad?” 

Leo laughed in disbelief. “You’re not kidding? You really don’t remember that your girlfriend’s dad—”

“Look, I wish I did, but I don’t even remember her, much less her dad.” 

Leo whistled. “Whatever. We have to talk when we get back to the dorm.” 

They reached the far end of the exhibit hall, where some big glass doors led out to a terrace. 

“All right, cupcakes,” Coach Hedge announced. “You are about to see the Grand Canyon. Try not to break it. The skywalk can hold the weight of seventy jumbo jets, so you featherweights should be safe out there. If possible, try to avoid pushing each other over the edge, as that would cause me extra paperwork.”

The coach opened the doors, and we all stepped outside. The Grand Canyon spread before us, live and in person. Extending over the edge was a horseshoe-shaped walkway made of glass, so you could see right through it.

“Man,” Leo said. “That’s pretty wicked.” 

I had to agree. Despite my amnesia and my feeling that I didn’t belong there, I couldn’t help being impressed. 

The canyon was bigger and wider than you could appreciate from a picture. They were up so high that birds circled below their feet. Five hundred feet down, a river snaked along the canyon floor. Banks of storm clouds had moved overhead while they’d been inside, casting shadows like angry faces across the cliffs. As far as I could see in any direction, red and gray ravines cut through the desert like some crazy god had taken a knife to it.

I got a piercing pain behind my eyes. Crazy gods ... Where had I come up with that idea? I felt like I’d gotten close to something important—something I should know about. I also got the unmistakable feeling I was in danger.

“You all right?” Leo asked. “You’re not going to throw up over the side, are you? ’Cause I should’ve brought my camera.” 

I grabbed the railing. I was shivering and sweaty, but it had nothing to do with heights. I blinked, and the pain behind my eyes subsided. 

“I’m fine,” I managed. “Just a headache.” 

Thunder rumbled overhead. A cold wind almost knocked me sideways. 

“This can’t be safe.” Leo squinted at the clouds. “Storm’s right over us, but it’s clear all the way around. Weird, huh?” 

I looked up and saw Leo was right. A dark circle of clouds had parked itself over the skywalk, but the rest of the sky in every direction was perfectly clear. I had a bad feeling about that. 

“All right, cupcakes!” Coach Hedge yelled. He frowned at the storm like it bothered him too. “We may have to cut this short, so get to work! Remember, complete sentences!” 

The storm rumbled, and my head began to hurt again. Not knowing why I did it, I reached into my jeans pocket and brought out a coin—a circle of gold the size of a half-dollar, but thicker and more uneven. Stamped on one side was a picture of a battle-ax. On the other was some guy’s face wreathed in laurels. The inscription said something like IVLIVS.

“Dang, is that gold?” Leo asked. “You been holding out on me!” 

I put the coin away, wondering how I’d come to have it, and why I had the feeling I was going to need it soon. 

“It’s nothing,” I said. “Just a coin.” 

Leo shrugged. Maybe his mind had to keep moving as much as his hands. “Come on,” he said. “Dare you to spit over the edge.”

 

We didn’t try very hard on the worksheet. For one thing, I was too distracted by the storm and my own mixed-up feelings. For another thing, I didn’t have any idea how to “name three sedimentary strata you observe” or “describe two examples of erosion.”

Leo was no help. He was too busy building a helicopter out of pipe cleaners.

“Check it out.” He launched the copter. I figured it would plummet, but the pipe-cleaner blades actually spun. The little copter made it halfway across the canyon before it lost momentum and spiraled into the void.

“How’d you do that?” I asked. Leo shrugged. “Would’ve been cooler if I had some rubber bands.” 

“Seriously,” I said, “are we friends?” 

“Last I checked.” 

“You sure? What was the first day we met? What did we talk about?” 

“It was ...” Leo frowned. “I don’t recall exactly. I’m ADHD, man. You can’t expect me to remember details.” 

“But I don’t remember you at all. I don’t remember anyone here. What if—”

“You’re right and everyone else is wrong?” Leo asked. “You think you just appeared here this morning, and we’ve all got fake memories of you?” 

A little voice in my head said, That’s exactly what I think. 

But it sounded crazy. Everybody here took me for granted. Everyone acted like I was a normal part of the class—except for Coach Hedge. 

“Take the worksheet.” I handed Leo the paper. “I’ll be right back.” 

Before Leo could protest, I headed across the skywalk. Their school group had the place to themselves. Maybe it was too early in the day for tourists, or maybe the weird weather had scared them off. The Wilderness School kids had spread out in pairs across the skywalk. Most were joking around or talking. Some of the guys were dropping pennies over the side. About fifty feet away, Piper was trying to fill out her worksheet, but her stupid partner Dylan was hitting on her, putting his hand on her shoulder and giving her that blinding white smile. She kept pushing him away, and when she saw me she gave me a look like, Throttle this guy for me.

I motioned for her to hang on. I walked up to Coach Hedge, who was leaning on his baseball bat, studying the storm clouds. 

“Did you do this?” the coach asked me. 

I took a step back. “Do what?” It sounded like the coach had just asked if I’d made the thunderstorm. 

Coach Hedge glared at him, his beady little eyes glinting under the brim of his cap. “Don’t play games with me, kid. What are you doing here, and why are you messing up my job?” 

“You mean...you don’t know me?” I said. “I’m not one of your students?” 

Hedge snorted. “Never seen you before today.” 

I was so relieved I almost wanted to cry. At least I wasn’t going insane. I was in the wrong place. “Look, sir, I don’t know how I got here. I just woke up on the school bus. All I know is I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Got that right.” Hedge’s gruff voice dropped to a murmur, like he was sharing a secret. “You got a powerful way with the Mist, kid, if you can make all these people think they know you; but you can’t fool me. I’ve been smelling monster for days now. I knew we had an infiltrator, but you don’t smell like a monster.You smell like a half-blood. So—who are you, and where’d you come from?” 

Most of what the coach said didn’t make sense, but I decided to answer honestly. “I don’t know who I am. I don’t have any memories. You’ve got to help me.”

Coach Hedge studied his face like was trying to read my thoughts. 

“Great,” Hedge muttered. “You’re being truthful.” 

“Of course I am! And what was all that about monsters and half-bloods? Are those code words or something?” 

Hedge narrowed his eyes. Part of me wondered if the guy was just nuts. But the other part knew better. 

“Look, kid,” Hedge said, “I don’t know who you are. I just know what you are, and it means trouble. Now I got to protect three of you rather than two. Are you the special package? Is that it?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Hedge looked at the storm. The clouds were getting thicker and darker, hovering right over the skywalk. 

“This morning,” Hedge said, “I got a message from camp. They said an extraction team is on the way. They’re coming to pick up a special package, but they wouldn’t give me details. I thought to myself, Fine. The two I’m watching are pretty powerful, older than most. I know they’re being stalked. I can smell a monster in the group. I figure that’s why the camp is suddenly frantic to pick them up. But then you pop up out of nowhere. So, are you the special package?”

The pain behind my eyes got worse than ever. Half-bloods. Camp. Monsters. I still didn’t know what Hedge was talking about, but the words gave me a massive brain freeze—like my mind was trying to access information that should’ve been there but wasn’t.

I stumbled, and Coach Hedge caught him. For a short guy, the coach had hands like steel. “Whoa, there, cupcake. You say you got no memories, huh? Fine. I’ll just have to watch you, too, until the team gets here. We’ll let the director figure things out.”

“What director?” I said. “What camp?” 

“Just sit tight. Reinforcements should be here soon. Hopefully nothing happens before—” 

Lightning crackled overhead. The wind picked up with a vengeance. Worksheets flew into the Grand Canyon, and the entire bridge shuddered. 

Kids screamed, stumbling and grabbing the rails. 

“I had to say something,” Hedge grumbled. He bellowed into his megaphone: “Everyone inside! The cow says moo! Off the skywalk!” 

“I thought you said this thing was stable!” I shouted over the wind. 

“Under normal circumstances,” Hedge agreed, “which these aren’t. Come on!”


	2. My Field Trip Takes a Turn for the Homicidal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter gets less word-for-word-y I promise.

The storm churned into a miniature hurricane. Funnel clouds snaked toward the skywalk like the tendrils of a monster jellyfish.

Kids screamed and ran for the building. The wind snatched away their notebooks, jackets, hats, and backpacks. I skidded across the slick floor.

Leo lost his balance and almost toppled over the railing, but I grabbed his jacket and pulled him back. 

“Thanks, man!” Leo yelled. 

“Go, go, go!” said Coach Hedge. 

Piper and Dylan were holding the doors open, herding the other kids inside. Piper’s snowboarding jacket was flapping wildly, her dark hair all in her face. I thought she must’ve been freezing, but she looked calm and confident—telling the others it would be okay, encouraging them to keep moving.

Leo, Coach Hedge, and I ran toward them, but it was like running through quicksand. The wind seemed to fight us, pushing us back. 

Dylan and Piper pushed one more kid inside, then lost their grip on the doors. They slammed shut, closing off the skywalk. 

Piper tugged at the handles. Inside, the kids pounded on the glass, but the doors seemed to be stuck. 

“Dylan, help!” Piper shouted. 

Dylan just stood there with an idiotic grin, his Cowboys jersey rippling in the wind, like he was suddenly enjoying the storm. 

“Sorry, Piper,” he said. “I’m done helping.” 

He flicked his wrist, and Piper flew backward, slamming into the doors and sliding to the skywalk deck. 

“Piper!” I tried to charge forward, but the wind was against me, and Coach Hedge pushed me back.

“Coach,” I said, “let me go!” 

“Jason, Leo, stay behind me,” the coach ordered. “This is my fight. I should’ve known that was our monster.” 

“What?” Leo demanded. A rogue worksheet slapped him in the face, but he swatted it away. “What monster?” 

The coach’s cap blew off, and sticking up above his curly hair were two bumps—like the knots cartoon characters get when they’re bonked on the head. Coach Hedge lifted his baseball bat—but it wasn’t a regular bat anymore. Somehow it had changed into a crudely shaped tree-branch club, with twigs and leaves still attached.

Dylan gave him that psycho happy smile. “Oh, come on, _Coach._ Let the boy attack me! After all, you’re getting too old for this. Isn’t that why they _retired_ you to this stupid school? I’ve been on your team the entire season, and you didn’t even know. You’re losing your nose, grandpa.”

The coach made an angry sound like an animal bleating. “That’s it, cupcake. You’re going down.” 

“You think you can protect three half-bloods at once, old man?” Dylan laughed. “Good luck.” 

Dylan pointed at Leo, and a funnel cloud materialized around him. Leo flew off the skywalk like he’d been tossed. Somehow he managed to twist in midair, and slammed sideways into the canyon wall. He skidded, clawing furiously for any handhold. Finally he grabbed a thin ledge about fifty feet below the skywalk and hung there by his fingertips.

“Help!” he yelled up at us. “Rope, please? Bungee cord? Something?”

Coach Hedge cursed and tossed me his club. “I don’t know who you are, kid, but I hope you’re good. Keep that _thing_ busy”—he stabbed a thumb at Dylan—“while I get Leo.”

“Get him how?” I demanded. “You going to fly?”

“Not fly. Climb.” Hedge kicked off his shoes, and I almost had a coronary. The coach didn’t have any feet. He had hooves—goat’s hooves. Which meant those things on his head, I realized, weren’t bumps. They were horns.

“You’re a faun,” I said. 

“ _Satyr!_ ” Hedge snapped. “Fauns are Roman. But we’ll talk about that later.” 

Hedge leaped over the railing. He sailed toward the canyon wall and hit hooves first. He bounded down the cliff with impossible agility, finding footholds no bigger than postage stamps, dodging whirlwinds that tried to attack him as he picked his way toward Leo. 

“Isn’t that cute!” Dylan turned toward me. “Now it’s your turn, boy.” 

I threw the club. It seemed useless with the winds so strong, but the club flew right at Dylan, even curving when he tried to dodge, and smacked him on the head so hard he fell to his knees. 

Piper wasn’t as dazed as she appeared. Her fingers closed around the club when it rolled next to her, but before she could use it, Dylan rose. Blood— _golden_ blood—trickled from his forehead. 

“Nice try, boy.” He glared at me. “But you’ll have to do better.” 

The skywalk shuddered. Hairline fractures appeared in the glass. Inside the museum, kids stopped banging on the doors. They backed away, watching in terror. 

Dylan’s body dissolved into smoke, as if his molecules were coming unglued. He had the same face, the same brilliant white smile, but his whole form was suddenly composed of swirling black vapor, his eyes like electrical sparks in a living storm cloud. He sprouted black smoky wings and rose above the skywalk. If angels could be evil, I decided, they would look exactly like this.

“You’re a _ventus_ ,” I said, though I had no idea how I knew that word. “A storm spirit.”

Dylan’s laugh sounded like a tornado tearing off a roof. “I’m glad I waited, demigod. Leo and Piper I’ve known about for weeks. Could’ve killed them at any time. But my mistress said a third was coming—someone special. She’ll reward me greatly for your death!”

Two more funnel clouds touched down on either side of Dylan and turned into _venti_ —ghostly young men with smoky wings and eyes that flickered with lightning.

Piper stayed down, pretending to be dazed, her hand still gripping the club. Her face was pale, but she gave me a determined look, and I understood the message: _Keep their attention. I’ll brain them from behind._

Cute, smart, _and_ violent. I wished I remembered having her as a girlfriend.

I clenched my fists and got ready to charge, but I never got a chance. 

Dylan raised his hand, arcs of electricity running between his fingers, and blasted me in the chest. 

_Bang!_ I found myself flat on his back. My mouth tasted like burning aluminum foil. I lifted my head and saw that my clothes were smoking. The lightning bolt had gone straight though my body and blasted off his left shoe. My toes were black with soot. 

The storm spirits were laughing. The winds raged. Piper was screaming defiantly, but it all sounded tinny and far away. 

Out of the corner of his eye, I saw Coach Hedge climbing the cliff with Leo on his back. Piper was on her feet, desperately swinging the club to fend off the two extra storm spirits, but they were just toying with her. The club went right through their bodies like they weren’t there. And Dylan, a dark and winged tornado with eyes, loomed over me.

“Stop,” I croaked. I rose unsteadily to my feet, and I wasn’t sure who was more surprised: me, or the storm spirits. 

“How are you alive?” Dylan’s form flickered. “That was enough lightning to kill twenty men!” 

“My turn,” I said. 

I reached in my pocket and pulled out the gold coin. I let my instincts take over, flipping the coin in the air like I’d done it a thousand times. I caught it in his palm, and suddenly I was holding a sword—a wickedly sharp double-edged weapon. The ridged grip fit my fingers perfectly, and the whole thing was gold—hilt, handle, and blade.

Dylan snarled and backed up. He looked at his two comrades and yelled, “Well? Kill him!” 

The other storm spirits didn’t look happy with that order, but they flew at me, their fingers crackling with electricity. I swung at the first spirit. My blade passed through it, and the creature’s smoky form disintegrated. The second spirit let loose a bolt of lightning, but my blade absorbed the charge. I stepped in—one quick thrust, and the second storm spirit dissolved into gold powder. 

Dylan wailed in outrage. He looked down as if expecting his comrades to re-form, but their gold dust remains dispersed in the wind. “Impossible! Who _are_ you, half-blood?” 

Piper was so stunned she dropped her club. “Jason, how ... ?” 

Then Coach Hedge leaped back onto the skywalk and dumped Leo like a sack of flour. 

“Spirits, fear me!” Hedge bellowed, flexing his short arms. Then he looked around and realized there was only Dylan. 

“Curse it, boy!” he snapped at me. “Didn’t you leave some for me? I like a challenge!” 

Leo got to his feet, breathing hard. He looked completely humiliated, his hands bleeding from clawing at the rocks. “Yo, Coach Supergoat, whatever you are—I just fell down the freaking Grand Canyon! Stop asking for challenges!” 

Dylan hissed at us, but I could see fear in his eyes. “You have no idea how many enemies you’ve awakened, half-bloods. My mistress will destroy _all_ demigods. This war you _cannot_ win.” 

Above us, the storm exploded into a full-force gale. Cracks expanded in the skywalk. Sheets of rain poured down, and I had to crouch to keep my balance. 

A hole opened in the clouds—a swirling vortex of black and silver. 

“The mistress calls me back!” Dylan shouted with glee. “And you, demigod, will come with me!” 

He lunged at me, but Piper tackled the monster from behind. Even though he was made of smoke, Piper somehow managed to connect. Both of them went sprawling. Leo, the coach, and I surged forward to help, but the spirit screamed with rage. He let loose a torrent that knocked us all backward. Coach Hedge and I landed on our butts. My sword skidded across the glass. Leo hit the back of his head and curled on his side, dazed and groaning. Piper got the worst of it. She was thrown off Dylan’s back and hit the railing, tumbling over the side until she was hanging by one hand over the abyss.

I started toward her, but Dylan screamed, “I’ll settle for this one!” 

He grabbed Leo’s arm and began to rise, towing a half-conscious Leo below him. The storm spun faster, pulling them upward like a vacuum cleaner. 

“Help!” Piper yelled. “Somebody!” 

Then she slipped, screaming as she fell. 

“Jason, go!” Hedge yelled. “Save her!” 

The coach launched himself at the spirit with some serious goat fu—lashing out with his hooves, knocking Leo free from the spirit’s grasp. Leo dropped safely to the floor, but Dylan grappled the coach’s arms instead. Hedge tried to head-butt him, then kicked him and called him a cupcake. They rose into the air, gaining speed.

Coach Hedge shouted down once more, “Save her! I got this!” Then the satyr and the storm spirit spiraled into the clouds and disappeared. 

_Save her?_ I thought. _She’s gone!_

But again my instincts won. I ran to the railing, thinking, _I’m a lunatic_ , and jumped over the side.

 

I’m not scared of heights. I was scared of being smashed against the canyon floor five hundred feet below. I figured I hadn’t accomplished anything except for dying along with Piper, but I tucked in my arms and plummeted headfirst. The sides of the canyon raced past like a film on fast-forward. My face felt like it was peeling off.

In a heartbeat, I caught up with Piper, who was flailing wildly. I tackled her waist and closed my eyes, waiting for death. Piper screamed. The wind whistled in my ears. I wondered what dying would feel like. I was thinking, probably not so good. I wished somehow we could never hit bottom.

Suddenly the wind died. Piper’s scream turned into a strangled gasp. I thought we must be dead, but I hadn’t felt any impact. 

“J-J-Jason,” Piper managed.

I opened my eyes. We weren’t falling. We were floating in midair, a hundred feet above the river.

I hugged Piper tight, and she repositioned herself so she was hugging me too. We were nose to nose. Her heart beat so hard, I could feel it through her clothes.

Her breath smelled like cinnamon. She said, “How did you—” 

“I didn’t,” I said. “I think I would know if I could fly...” 

But then I thought: _I don’t even know who I am._

I imagined going up. Piper yelped as we shot a few feet higher. We weren’t exactly floating, I decided. I could feel pressure under my feet like we were balancing at the top of a geyser.

“The air is supporting us,” I said. 

“Well, tell it to support us more! Get us out of here!” 

I looked down. The easiest thing would be to sink gently to the canyon floor. Then I looked up. The rain had stopped. The storm clouds didn’t seem as bad, but they were still rumbling and flashing. There was no guarantee the spirits were gone for good. I had no idea what had happened to Coach Hedge. And I’d left Leo up there, barely conscious.

“We have to help them,” Piper said, as if reading my thoughts. “Can you—” 

“Let’s see.” I thought _Up_ , and instantly we shot skyward. 

The fact I was riding the winds might’ve been cool under different circumstances, but I was too much in shock. As soon as we landed on the skywalk, we ran to Leo.

Piper turned Leo over, and he groaned. His army coat was soaked from the rain. His curly hair glittered gold from rolling around in monster dust. But at least he wasn’t dead.

“Stupid ... ugly ... goat,” he muttered. 

“Where did he go?” Piper asked. Leo pointed straight up. 

“Never came down. Please tell me he didn’t actually save my life.” 

“Twice,” I said. Leo groaned even louder. 

“What happened? The tornado guy, the gold sword ... I hit my head. That’s it, right? I’m hallucinating?” 

I had forgotten about the sword. I walked over to where it was lying and picked it up. The blade was well balanced. On a hunch I flipped it. Midspin, the sword shrank back into a coin and landed in my palm. 

“Yep,” Leo said. “Definitely hallucinating.” 

Piper shivered in her rain-soaked clothes. “Jason, those things—” 

“ _Venti_ ,” I said. “Storm spirits.”

“Okay. You acted like ... like you’d seen them before. Who _are_ you?” 

I shook my head. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t know.” 

The storm dissipated. The other kids from the Wilderness School were staring out the glass doors in horror. Security guards were working on the locks now, but they didn’t seem to be having any luck. 

“Coach Hedge said he had to protect three people,” I remembered. “I think he meant us.” 

“And that thing Dylan turned into ...” Piper shuddered. “God, I can’t believe it was _hitting_ on me. He called us... what, _demigods_?”

Leo lay on his back, staring at the sky. He didn’t seem anxious to get up. “Don’t know what _demi_ means,” he said. “But I’m not feeling too godly. You guys feeling godly?”

There was a brittle sound like dry twigs snapping, and the cracks in the skywalk began to widen. 

“We need to get off this thing,” I said. “Maybe if we—” 

“Ohhh-kay,” Leo interrupted. “Look up there and tell me if those are flying horses.” 

At first I thought Leo _had_ hit his head too hard. Then I saw a dark shape descending from the east—too slow for a plane, too large for a bird. As it got closer I could see a pair of winged animals—gray, four-legged, exactly like horses—except each one had a twenty-foot wingspan. And they were pulling a brightly painted box with two wheels: a chariot.

“Reinforcements,” I said. “Hedge told me an extraction squad was coming for us.” 

“Extraction squad?” Leo struggled to his feet. “That sounds painful.” 

“And where are they extracting us _to_?” Piper asked.

I watched as the chariot landed on the far end of the skywalk. The flying horses tucked in their wings and cantered nervously across the glass, as if they sensed it was near breaking. Two teenagers stood in the chariot—a tall blond girl maybe a little older than me, and a bulky dude with a shaved head and a face like a pile of bricks. They both wore jeans and orange T-shirts, with shields tossed over their backs. The girl leaped off before the chariot had even finished moving. She pulled a knife and ran toward my group while the bulky dude was reining in the horses.

“Where is he?” the girl demanded. Her gray eyes were fierce and a little startling.

“Where’s who?” I asked. 

She frowned like my answer was unacceptable. Then she turned to Leo and Piper. “What about Gleeson? Where is your protector, Gleeson Hedge?”

The coach’s first name was Gleeson? I might’ve laughed if the morning hadn’t been quite so weird and scary. Gleeson Hedge: football coach, goat man, protector of demigods. Sure. Why not?

Leo cleared his throat. “He got taken by some ... tornado things.”

“ _Venti_ ,” I said. “Storm spirits.”

The blond girl arched an eyebrow. “You mean _anemoi thuellai_? That’s the Greek term. Who are you, and what happened?”

I did my best to explain, though it was hard to meet those intense gray eyes. About halfway through the story, the other guy from the chariot came over. He stood there glaring at us, his arms crossed. He had a tattoo of a rainbow on his biceps, which seemed a little unusual.

When I had finished my story, the blond girl didn’t look satisfied. “No, no, no! She _told_ me he would be here. She told me if I came here, I’d find the answer.”

“Annabeth,” the bald guy grunted. “Check it out.” He pointed at my feet.

I hadn’t thought much about it, but I was still missing my left shoe, which had been blown off by the lightning. My bare foot felt okay, but it looked like a lump of charcoal.

“The guy with one shoe,” said the bald dude. “He’s the answer.”

“No, Butch,” the girl insisted. “He can’t be. I was tricked.” She glared at the sky as though it had done something wrong. “What do you want from me? ” she screamed. “What have you done with him?”

The skywalk shuddered, and the horses whinnied urgently. “Annabeth,” said the bald dude, Butch, “we gotta leave. Let’s get these three to camp and figure it out there. Those storm spirits might come back.” 

She fumed for a moment. “Fine.” She fixed me with a resentful look. “We’ll settle this later.” 

She turned on her heel and marched toward the chariot. 

Piper shook her head. “What’s _her_ problem? What’s going on?” 

“Seriously,” Leo agreed. 

“We have to get you out of here,” Butch said. “I’ll explain on the way.” 

“I’m not going anywhere with _her_.” I gestured toward the blonde. “She looks like she wants to kill me.” 

Butch hesitated. “Annabeth’s okay. You gotta cut her some slack. She had a vision telling her to come here, to find a guy with one shoe. That was supposed to be the answer to her problem.” 

“What problem?” Piper asked. 

“She’s been looking for one of our campers, who’s been missing three days,” Butch said. “She’s going out of her mind with worry. She hoped he’d be here.” 

“Who?” I asked. 

“Her boyfriend,” Butch said. “A guy named Percy Jackson.”


End file.
